Chapter 3: The Man at the Back Door
“Lock the doors,” Daniel’s father said into the microphone.
The venue employee near the entrance moved before Martin could reach it.
Martin changed direction, knocking a chair aside as he hurried toward the service corridor.
“Martin!” Claire shouted.
“Don’t say anything!”
Daniel looked at her.
“You know him.”
“I know half the people working here.”
“You didn’t say he worked here.”
Claire reached for her phone, but Daniel held it behind him.
“Give that back,” she said.
“You have no right to read my private messages.”
“You sent messages from my phone pretending to be me.”
“You can’t prove that.”
Daniel’s mother swayed near the doorway.
The employee caught her elbow before she fell.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said.
“I didn’t know why I’d been told to remove you.”
Daniel crossed the floor and put an arm around his mother.
“Mom, sit down.”
“No.” She gripped his sleeve.
“If I sit down now, Claire will say I’m confused again.”
Claire’s mouth tightened.
“Ruth, nobody called you confused.”
“You told Daniel I was emotionally unstable.”
“I said you were overwhelmed.”
“You told the venue I might cause a scene.”
The employee lowered his eyes.
“She did.”
Claire turned on him.
“Owen, remember who approved your overtime for tonight.”
Owen removed his staff badge and placed it on the nearest table.
“I remember who left a frightened woman outside in the rain.”
Two security guards brought Martin back from the corridor.
His jacket was open, and a small black tablet was tucked beneath his arm.
Daniel pointed at it.
“What were you deleting?”
“Nothing.”
“Then unlock it.”
Martin glanced at Claire.
“Don’t look at her,” Daniel said.
“Look at my mother.”
Martin’s eyes moved toward Ruth’s ruined dress and then away.
Claire stepped between them.
“This is absurd.
Martin helped coordinate the vendors.
That is all.”
Peter—Daniel’s father—held up Ruth’s letter.
“Then why did my wife write that she was afraid of him?”
Daniel turned.
“Afraid?”
Ruth pressed her fingers against her lips.
“Tell him,” Peter said gently.
“He should have heard it from us before today.”
Claire folded her arms.
“Yes, Ruth.
Tell him everything.
Tell him how you’ve been investigating me for months.”
Daniel stared at his mother.
“Is that true?”
“I found payments,” Ruth said.
“Small ones at first, from the family company’s events account.
They went to a consulting business registered to Martin.”
“That account is for vendors,” Claire said.
“Daniel knows that.”
“I didn’t approve payments to Martin,” Daniel replied.
Claire gave a short laugh.
“You approve things and forget them constantly.”
Daniel’s hand tightened around her phone.
Martin shifted toward the corridor again, but one of the guards blocked him.
“How much did she pay you?” Peter asked.
Martin said nothing.
Ruth reached inside her damp handbag and pulled out a plastic folder.
The papers inside had stayed dry.
“I brought copies of the invoices.
That’s why I came through the garden.”
Claire’s face changed.
Daniel opened the folder.
Six payments were highlighted, each just below the amount requiring a second signature.
“What did Martin do for this money?” he asked.
Claire reached for the papers.
“Those are company records.
Your mother had no right to take them.”
Ruth pulled them against her chest.
“They were on my desk because I’m still a trustee.”
“Not anymore,” Claire said.
Peter slowly lowered the microphone.
“What does that mean?” Daniel asked.
Claire looked at Martin, then at the phone in Daniel’s hand.
“It means your mother didn’t come here to save you,” she said.
“She came because she knows what you signed this morning.”
“I signed the marriage license.”
“You signed more than that.”
Martin shut his eyes.
Ruth caught Daniel’s hand.
“The document beneath the license transferred your voting authority in the company.”
Daniel looked from his mother to his bride.
“I never saw any transfer.”
Claire’s smile returned, but this time there was no warmth in it.
May you like
“You didn’t need to see it,” she said.
“You only needed to sign it.”
